Men … Spirit
stood upon knees,
needy submissive
to a mistress.
Vanished pleasures
of pegged solitudes,
evenings remembered
under a bloody moon.
Such marked pain;
enjoyed punishment,
secretly decreed;
named for men.
Noon wrestlers
with untangled secrets.
Engulfed aches,
of lonely nights.
Our limits:
those lost gardens.
Withered glimpses,
midst strangers.
The whore made of soil
we coupled;
torn veins
of fruitless pleasures.
Men … Spirit
torched and loved.
Fiery ecstasy,
punished with thongs.
Photo: ANDREI VISHNYAKOV
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